


Nothing if not Opportunistic

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-12
Updated: 2006-11-12
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: After Voldemort’s… unexpected demise, Harry has settled into domestic life with his boyfriend, but he’s not where he belongs.  Unfortunately, Seamus doesn’t deal well when he feels threatened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Beta:** Kate (and many thanks to her)

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. No profit is being made from this; it’s all in fun.

**Author’s Notes:** Warning to all Seamus fans, this fic does not put him in a good light. Seamus’s career choice was sparked after reading a fic featuring his famous water to rum. No idea what the fic was unfortunately. The name Mojag means never silent. Also, I’ve been told in the past that Harry is OOC, however, I feel given his situation, he’s very much in character, but I thought I’d still give people a heads up. Please read and review, constructive criticism is always appreciated!

Part I: Once

A heart attack—the not so sticky end of Lord Voldemort; the great Dark Lord died of shock. And who could blame him?

It was the end of Harry Potter’s seventh year at Hogwarts, and he had, once again, come face to face with Lord Voldemort. Having conducted the required verbal dancing, Voldemort had turned to the Death Eater on his right and said, “Deal with him.”

Lucius Malfoy had stridden forward and grabbed Harry Potter by the arm. He had gracefully removed his mask and looked down at Harry, who was trembling, a look of resignation in his eyes. And then, Lucius did the most unexpected thing. He dragged Harry closer, leaned down, and kissed him. Not just any kiss, but a hot, wet kiss, and Harry had moaned loudly as Lucius slid his tongue between Harry’s lips.

And so ended Voldemort, and with his anticlimactic finish, went the fame of the Boy Who Lived. The public no longer cared as much, and Harry was left with those who knew him. Normal... just how Harry wanted it.

~*~

Two years later, Harry Potter was a housewife, or may as well have been. After Voldemort’s demise, he had become unemployable. After all, who wants a Boy Who Got Snogged? His life was boring. Harry was restless, but his boyfriend of three years had discovered he liked Harry domestic.

Lately, however, their dull relationship had gained an extra spark. Seamus’s temper had been steadily fraying since beginning a new project at work. Harry had no idea why, as Seamus was an Unspeakable. 

“My eggs are cold,” said Seamus dryly one morning.

Harry looked up from his own breakfast. “So cast a warming charm on them.” 

The plate went crashing to the floor, and Harry jumped, startled. He looked up at his boyfriend incredulously.

“I shouldn’t bloody well have to!” shouted Seamus, “I’m sick and fucking tired of you sitting at home on your arse all day!”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but never got the chance. The sound rang throughout the kitchen as Seamus backhanded him. Harry looked up at Seamus, shocked and unable to stop the tears from forming in his eyes.

“Serves you right, you ungrateful little whore,” sneered Seamus unrepentantly before he left for work, leaving Harry staring after him, open mouthed.

Harry, once he had recovered, went about his chores for the day, unsure of what else to do. He nearly called Ron and Hermione, but decided against it. _‘Seamus was just upset,’_ thought Harry. _‘It won’t happen again. He’ll get to work and realise what he’s done and… Besides they’ve been so busy lately, with the baby.’_ He spent the remainder of his day cleaning; he had to keep the house spotless, just the way Seamus liked it.

~*~

When Seamus got home that night, they acted as if everything was normal. They had a pleasant supper; Harry had cooked rack of lamb with sweet potatoes and asparagus, and he had everything in his rustic kitchen laid out perfectly.

As Harry was serving dessert, Seamus spoke. “Harry, I’ve invited some colleagues and a few of the sponsors for the latest project to dinner tomorrow evening. _Try_ to have something decent prepared.”

“What’s wrong with this?” asked Harry indignantly, only to receive a warning glare. The look left Seamus’s face quickly, leaving Harry to wonder if he had imagined it.

“I’m going up to the bedroom. When you’ve cleaned up, why don’t you join me,” leered Seamus.

Harry sighed and began clearing the table. Seamus seemed to get worse with each passing day, and Harry didn’t know how to deal with it. _‘Dark lords I can handle, but apparently not angry boyfriends,’_ Harry thought scornfully. _‘Not that I handled Voldemort too well. Maybe I’ll figure something out at the dinner party.’_

Harry noticed his hands shaking and set the dishes to washing themselves. He was carrying the last of the plates to the kitchen when he heard Seamus calling angrily from upstairs. 

Harry dropped the plates. “Shit!” he exclaimed. Harry had forgotten to make the bed. 

Looking down at the shards anxiously, he was caught off guard when Seamus stormed into the room. He sneered when he caught sight of the plates and grabbed Harry’s upper arm.

“You’ll deal with that later,” hissed Seamus, dragging Harry from the room and up the stairs.

Harry let himself be pulled behind Seamus, dazed. _‘It’s not supposed to be like this,’_ thought Harry, panic rising. _‘He never used to get this angry…’_

Seamus shoved him through the door. “What the fuck is this?” yelled Seamus, gesturing to the mussed bed. Harry simply looked from the bed to Seamus blankly. Seamus grabbed Harry’s wrist tightly as he swung his fist. The impact knocked Harry backwards, and he fell the floor, sliding a bit on the hardwood. 

Harry cradled his cheekbone as Seamus towered over him. Suddenly Seamus’s face transformed into a horrified look of regret. “Oh Merlin, Harry, I’m so sorry…”

Harry’s emotions were jumbled between anger, hurt and confusion, and he stared up at Seamus with accusing eyes. “Here,” said Seamus, offering him a hand up which Harry took cautiously. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Seamus hurried from the room, leaving Harry to sit on the bed and wonder what was going on. Seamus could be something of a jerk, but he had never become violent before. At least, not until recently.

When Seamus returned, icepack in hand, he crawled up on the bed and settled behind Harry, handing him the icepack. Seamus arranged Harry between his legs, wrapped hi arms around him, and propped his head on Harry’s shoulder. Slowly, Seamus’s freckled hand crept down Harry’s chest and over his arm to begin rubbing at his groin.

“Don’t,” Harry protested weakly, trying to curb his body’s traitorous response.

Ignoring him, Seamus kissed just behind his ear; he trailed his lips down Harry’s neck and along his shoulder, continuing to rub at Harry’s half erect cock.

Harry squirmed and turned his head to tell Seamus to stuff it up his own arse when Seamus caught his lips with his. Harry felt his resolve slipping away as the steadily increasing arousal pounded through his body.

Slowly, Seamus shifted around Harry and pressed him back to lie on the bed. The icepack tumbled to the floor forgotten and clothing soon followed.

~*~

Seamus rolled off Harry and flopped down on the bed, sighing with satisfaction. Harry remained on his back, staring at the ceiling, legs slightly askew.

“You can go clean up that plate now,” said Seamus before rolling to his side and settling in for the night.

Harry slowly climbed out of the bed. He suppressed a sigh, not wanting to set off Seamus’s volatile temper, and went downstairs, trance like... numb.

Part II: Dinner

Lucius Malfoy didn’t remember when it happened. It had begun as simple attraction, a brief glance at a fine rear end, but things quickly escalated. Lust followed, and then, the desire to possess. He had never loved before, and could only thank Merlin that Narcissa had long since gone on her way. She would have made things so much more difficult. The demented harpy…

Lucius desperately wanted to make him his, not that he stood a chance. The boy was already taken, and Lucius knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d leave his boyfriend for a Death Eater. And so, Lucius silently admired from afar.

He had never been content with his role as Voldemort’s minion; it was just one more way his marriage to Narcissa had fucked with his life. He was a Malfoy! Why anyone thought he’d willingly lick someone’s boots was beyond him. And so, when the Dark Lord had ordered him to “take care of” the boy, he hadn’t been able to resist. Malfoy’s were nothing if not opportunistic.

_‘It’s likely to be my last chance anyway,’_ Lucius had reasoned, and then he smirked, _‘Perhaps it’ll give the crazy old snake heart failure.’_

He had never considered that it might actually happen.

~*~

Lucius Malfoy had been sceptical when Mojag Croaker had approached him for funding of a project the Unspeakable had been assigned; he really failed to see why the prophecies needed a new storage system.

Croaker had thought that his role as a Death Eater would have secured Lucius’s favour. He had, after all, been instrumental in the assassination of his colleague Broderick Bode, as well as getting the Dark Lord into the Department of Mysteries shortly after. And Lucius fully intended to let him continue with that reasoning.

Lucius, however, had only been convinced to fund the project when he met with the members of the staff that would be developing the new storage system, one of whom was Seamus Finnigan. How Lucius hated him. How dare the bastard touch _his_ Harry? But once again, Lucius saw an opportunity and took it. There was a small chance for Lucius to get closer to Harry, and even if that didn’t come about, he could always make life difficult for Mr. Finnigan.

Not, as it turned out, that it took much to upset the man. Finnigan had begun fuming the instant he walked in and saw Lucius. Lucius had found it amazingly easy to agitate him and had taken great pleasure in doing so over the weeks since the beginning of the project, knowing that Seamus felt the threat yet could do little about it.

 

_‘Apparently he never got over that kiss,’_ Lucius mused. _‘Too bad he never made good on his threat to leave Harry.’_

Lucius was in a particularly good mood that evening. He had just received an owl from Croaker inviting him to a dinner organized to discuss the progress in the project, a dinner that was being hosted by none other than Seamus Finnigan, which, to Lucius, meant access to Harry.

~*~

Harry awkwardly lifted the heavy roast from the oven and set it on the stove top, rushing to get out of his apron. He scrambled with the knot behind his back as he listened to the front door close and heard the murmurs of the guests arriving and being led out of the foyer.

Finally pulling the fabric loose, he grabbed up a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Checking his reflection in the silver of the platter, Harry saw that the bruise on his cheek wasn’t showing through the makeup and headed for the sitting room, reflecting on how important it was for this evening to run smoothly. _‘At least for my sake,’_ he thought, grimly.

As Harry reached out to the door of the sitting room, he heard a man’s voice call out, “Where’s the boyfriend, Seamus? Still causing you no end of trouble, eh?” 

Harry paused, hand still resting on the maple finished door that had crept open slightly, seizing his chance to survey Seamus’s colleagues unobserved. _‘That has to be Christopher Alban,’_ thought Harry, sneering as he saw Seamus chuckle in agreement. _‘That man has all the sensitivity and subtlety of a raging hippogriff.’_

Harry took a deep breath, preparing to enter and trying to ignore the derogatory remark that Seamus was in the middle of making. However, his breath was robbed from him as a clear, refined voice travelled through the door to his ears, a voice he hadn’t heard for at least two years.

“Surely my ears deceive me, Mr. Finnigan, and here we all thought you were happy with your little house boy,” drawled Lucius. “Really, you should show more respect for the man who prepares your meals.”

_‘Lucius Malfoy! Oh dear gods, what am I going to do?’_ thought Harry, torn between horror and excitement. _‘Sweet Merlin, no wonder Seamus has been so foul, he nearly had kneazles after that kiss…’_ Harry’s train of thought drifted off as remembered that kiss with no small amount of lust.

Jerking himself from the memory, he pushed the door open and swept into the room, carrying the dish of brie and herbed crackers to the cocktail table before the settee. Harry straightened and turned. “Gentlemen,” greeted Harry, flashing a smile at the men in the room while endeavouring to ignore Seamus’s jealous glare. “Please, make yourselves comfortable; I just need to put together a few finishing touches.”

Harry walked swiftly from the room feeling the weight of Lucius’s gaze until the door shut behind him. Walking into the dining room to survey the place settings, Harry heard Seamus excuse himself. As he walked around the dining table, Harry pretended to straighten the silverware as Seamus entered the room.

Harry kept his head down, concentrating on wiping a nonexistent spot from one of the candlesticks as Seamus stalked over to him. “You had better be perfect tonight,” Seamus hissed into his ear. “I don’t want you giving Malfoy any ideas. Understand?”

“Perfectly,” Harry couldn’t keep the insolence from his voice, and he winced as Seamus clutched his wrist harder. He hoped it didn’t start to bruise before the night was over.

“It’s a good thing you have such a tight arse, Potter, or I don’t know how I’d put up with you. Now bring the dishes in; I want to get this evening over with as quickly as possible,” said Seamus, shortly before stomping out of the room.

Harry held his wrist close as he waited for his breathing to even, watching the door swing from Seamus’s swift departure.

~*~

Lucius quickly drew away from the door and hurried back to the sitting room as Seamus left the room.

 _‘How dare he do harm to my Harry,’_ thought Lucius angrily, having just observed Seamus’s punishing grip on Harry’s arm and having noticed the makeup over Harry’s left cheek a few minutes earlier. _‘The wizarding world may have abandoned their Golden Boy, but I know for a fact that his friends haven’t. I’ve heard Weasley speak of the boy.’_

Lucius couldn’t believe that someone has spirited as Potter would put up with such treatment. It was obvious he hadn’t been confiding in his friends. _‘That mudblood girl would never allow it to continue. No matter, I’ve just found my window of opportunity,’_ thought Lucius gleefully. _‘This time Harry Potter_ will _be mine.’_

Part III: Escalation

Harry felt like shit as he contemplated his current condition while gazing into the bathroom mirror.

The dinner party two weeks ago had been hell, or at least had caused it afterwards. Malfoy had flirted with him the entire evening, despite being under Seamus’s watchful eye, brushing up against him whenever possible. _‘Not that Seamus could have done much anyway,’_ reasoned Harry. _‘Can’t piss off the money source.’_

But Malfoy had taken it a bit far. Harry could have sworn he felt a hand stroke over his behind as he had shown the guests out the door. He could only thank Merlin that Seamus had been involved in a detailed conversation with his project lead, Croaker, at the time. That evening, after the party, had been bad enough as it was.

Seamus had ranted for most of what was left of the night, occasionally pausing to give Harry a shake. When he had finished, he had shoved Harry against the wall of the foyer, knocking over the hat stand in the process. Pinning Harry with one arm against his abdomen, Seamus had kneeled and ripped off Harry’s slacks. 

He had quickly sucked on a finger before forcing it past Harry’s entrance. He had fingered him briefly and then removed it in favour of fumbling with the buttons to his trousers.

Pulling himself free, he had pushed Harry further up the wall. Barely giving Harry time to wrap a leg around his waist for further support, Seamus had driven into his barely-lubricated hole, moving in short, fast jabs.

Harry remembered crying out in pain as Seamus had fucked him raw. Harry had reached out to brace himself with one hand on Seamus’s shoulder as the speed had increased, and with one final shove, Seamus had dug his nails into Harry’s hips, thrown his head back, and screamed as he shot his load into Harry’s abused arse.

Seamus had pulled out roughly, leaving Harry to slide down the wall, limp and without having come. As Seamus had gone into the kitchen and Harry had reached between his legs to find pink tinged cum, a single tear crept down his cheek.

And over the last two weeks, Seamus had grown increasingly worse, even without a repeat of that night. Harry had got hit at least once a day since, and last night, Seamus had completely lost it. 

Harry had been visiting with Hermione and the baby, and he had lost track of the time, not making it home before Seamus. When Harry had flooed in later that evening, Seamus had been waiting. As Harry had stumbled from the fireplace, Seamus had grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar, fingers digging into his neck, and tossed him face-first into the wall.

“And just where have you been, my little bitch?” he had whispered sinisterly in Harry’s ear before grabbing Harry by the hair and slamming his head back into the wall.

Harry had cried out, slightly dazed from the blow, and had tried to push away from the wall. He had failed miserably, Seamus having size and weight advantage, only succeeding in antagonizing the man further. As Seamus had turned Harry about to face him, Harry had caught the distinctive scent of firewhisky on his breath.

Harry had opened his mouth to protest that he had only been to see Hermione, but Seamus was not to be reasoned with. He had slapped Harry hard, causing Harry’s teeth to pierce his lower lip. Harry had soon lost track of strikes and had barely noticed when Seamus had finally tossed him to the floor, delivering a heavy kick to the side before stamping up the stairs.

Harry had healed the broken rib as well as the fracture in his cheek, but knew better than to heal the bruises that darkened his face, side, and the back of his neck. He had learned that lessen the first week after the dinner party when Seamus had flown off the handle for Harry daring to fix what he had rightfully deserved.

Harry thought of all this as he carefully checked over his makeup. It had to be perfect; he was going shopping with Hermione today for little Flynn’s first birthday party, and he was sure Hermione would notice if the if he hadn’t covered the bruises completely.

He was so ashamed that he had allowed this to happen, but he was well and truly stuck. He’d not been able to find a job after Voldemort’s anticlimactic end, and he refused to become a burden on his friends. After two years, Harry knew he’d likely be able to find a low-paying job somewhere, but in reality, a secret part of him was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to find anyone else. 

Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to stand being without affection. Harry needed to be possessed; he only wished he had found it in a different form than Seamus.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Harry gave his face one last look and made certain his collar covered his neck before walking outside and apparating to the Leaky Cauldron. As he caught sight of Hermione impatiently tapping her foot standing in the afternoon crowd, Harry wondered if he’d get the chance to slip away.

~*~

Lucius discreetly followed the young Mrs. Weasley and Harry into Flourish and Blotts; he’d been tailing them since he’d seen them emerge from the Leaky Cauldron over an hour ago, trying to work out a way to spirit his Harry off without raising alarm. He’d been trying to get to Harry for weeks, but it seemed like months; apparently, Harry didn’t get out much.

 _‘When I have him,’_ noted Lucius, _‘I’ll take him out as often as I can. I will enjoy spoiling him. And showing him off, of course.’_

When Harry wandered away from the children’s book section, leaving Hermione behind, Lucius seized his opportunity. He slipped one of the attendants a few coins with quick instructions and sent him in Mrs. Weasley’s direction. 

Waiting until Harry drew near the hearth, Lucius quietly approached and grabbed him from behind. Drawing a black velvet pouch from his cloak, Lucius pulled Harry into the fireplace and emptied the contents, calmly ordering it to take them to Malfoy Manor.

~*~

Harry drifted to the back of the store, needing to get away from Hermione’s nearly constant chatter about encouraging the love of books in Flynn as early as possible. Harry hadn’t expected to get tired this quickly; the ache in his side was at a constant throb now, the painkillers having worn off. The inglenook in the back of the shop seemed more and more inviting with every step.

Harry was so caught up in the soreness that he was completely taken by surprise when a set of strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him towards the fireplace. He gasped as the familiar scent of Lucius enveloped him, and tilting his head to the side slightly, he confirmed what his senses were telling him.

He had a fleeting thought of Seamus as Lucius stepped into the fireplace with him, but that was driven from his mind by a shiver when he heard that delectably cool voice softly whisper right next to his ear. Then Harry was swept away, into the nauseating whirling of the Floo network.

_‘Hermione’s going to flip,’_ thought Harry just before they were deposited at Malfoy Manor.

Part IV: Possession

The floo system spat them out in the comfortable-looking office of Malfoy Manor, Harry still securely in Lucius’s arms. As Harry slowly emerged from his Lucius-induced stupor, he felt the arms around him loosen, and he quickly slipped completely from their grasp.

Lucius watched as his Harry backed across the room, stopping once his thighs hit the arm of one of the stuffed leather armchairs. Harry was nervously darting his eyes about the room, before they focused on Lucius’s cautious approach. 

As Harry recovered from the shock of the abduction, panic began to set in. _‘What will Hermione think? It won’t take her long to notice I’m gone.’_ Harry stiffened further as a new thought occurred to him. _‘What if she goes to Seamus? After all, if I’m gone too long, she’ll have to tell him.’_

“Are you insane?” Harry cried, his panic making him lash out in anger. “Do you think Hermione won’t notice?”

Lucius decided it was time to calm the boy down before he began to hyperventilate. “You needn’t worry, Harry. Just as we left, one of the clerks was telling young Mrs. Weasley that you had received a note from that ba– your boyfriend, and you had to rush off. A few coins can be so useful.” This seemed to sooth Harry somewhat, as he realized he had at least two hours until Seamus got home from work. 

“Well, what about Seamus then,” Harry continued to protest. He had a feeling that Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t bring him to his Manor just to let him run home to his boyfriend. “Do you have any idea how… upset he’ll be when he comes home and I’m not there?”

By this time Lucius was within arms length of Harry. As Lucius took another step forward, Harry pressed as far back into the chair as he could, turning his head down and hoping his makeup was still okay.

Lucius reached out his right hand and tugged lightly on Harry’s collar, getting the reaction he’d hoped for when Harry’s head jerked up. Catching Harry’s eyes with his gaze, his hand travelled up, and he stroked his thumb across Harry’s cheek, wiping away some of the makeup with the gesture. Harry’s eyes dropped shut and he shivered.

“My Harry,” said Lucius. “Did you think you could hide it from me?” 

Harry’s eyes looked back into his, wide and vulnerable, as Lucius banished the makeup. Lucius could barely stifle the gasp that rose up when he saw the extent of the damage. He had never expected it to be this bad, and he once again questioned the audacity of the man who dared to harm what was his. 

Harry’s face was varying shades of bluish purple, with traces of old bruising showing through here and there. Lucius trailed his hand back down Harry’s face to lightly touch the end of a thumb-shaped bruise on his neck that wrapped around his neck. Cold rage welled up within Lucius, and only years of masking emotions allowed him to keep it in check. 

“Why did you not heal them?”

Harry studied his faded trainers intently and mumbled, “ ‘e said I deserved them.” 

Harry was tired; he wanted Lucius, but he also wanted to be left alone. He didn’t need to borrow anymore trouble. Lucius seemed to sense all this, and he didn’t pan on letting go now that Harry was within his grasp. 

He cast a quick healing charm over Harry and cradled his face in his hands, gently forcing Harry to look into his eyes. 

“You’ll be mine now, Harry,” he said, and Harry could hear the promise behind those words of safety, belonging, and love. His weariness lifted. Harry knew that no one would dare to hurt him again; Lucius’s possessiveness wouldn’t allow it.

As their lips met, it was like coming home. The fire and passion began its ascent; there would be no separating this time. Lucius dove into Harry’s mouth hungrily, pressing forward as they tried to get even closer. Harry was pushed further against the chair.

Lucius’s hands wandered down to Harry’s arse and pulled up one of Harry’s legs. Harry pushed forward, grinding them together. As their arousals met, Lucius groaned, crushing Harry to him. Harry wrapped his legs around Lucius, and he quickly found himself apparated to an opulent bedroom.

Lucius stumbled the few steps to the bed and eased them onto it. He broke off their kiss and looked down at Harry, caught for a moment by his elation at seeing those eyes, lust filled and dilated in passion all for him.

He hastily stripped Harry of his robes and shirt, running his hands across Harry’s shoulders and down his chest. He caressed Harry’s sides, raising a delighted purr from Harry with his petting. The purring soon turned to panting as Lucius leaned down to lick a small, dark nipple. As his hands worked the button of Harry’s trousers, he nipped, and Harry arched into his mouth.

Lucius struggled with Harry’s tight trousers, and Harry raised his hips, desperate to assist Lucius in their removal. Lucius growled as he had to pause to tug Harry’s trainers off, throwing them over his shoulder before he jerked the slacks and boxers off, tossing them aside. Finally, he could feast his eyes as he glimpsed Harry in all his perfection.

Harry, growing impatient with the one-sidedness, sat up abruptly and reached for the clasps of Lucius’s robes. Lucius smirked as Harry pushed the robes off his shoulders, elated by the way Harry ogled his naked body. Lucius’s smirk faded with the pulse of arousal that ran through his body when Harry eyed his hardness and licked his lips.

But Lucius was having none of that, there’d be plenty of time later. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long with Harry’s lips wrapped around him. He’d probably come at the mere sight. Two years was a long time to wait, especially for Lucius Malfoy. Not that he’d been celibate, mind…

Lucius pressed Harry back down on the bed and kissed him possessively. “I want you, Harry,” he whispered, licking along Harry’s ear. “Let me take you.”

Harry moaned his consent, and Lucius immediately seized the vial of lubricant on the bedside table. He had kept it there every night since the dinner party. The first time with his Harry had to be perfect.

He slicked his fingers and cock as he sucked on Harry’s neck, marking him as his in pleasure instead of pain. Slowly, he prepared Harry, stretching him as Harry writhed beneath him. Harry was thrusting back against his fingers, and Lucius marvelled at Harry’s beauty. 

“Oh, oh Lucius, please,” Harry gasped out. “I n– need you. Oh, now. Please now.”

Lucius removed his fingers, pushing Harry’s legs up and setting his prick against Harry’s entrance.

“Say it again, Harry,” he ordered, using the head of his cock to circle Harry’s hole. “Say my name.”

“L– lucius… Lucius please.”

Lucius groaned and began to sink into Harry’s arse, thrusting in to the hilt when he saw Harry throw his head back in ecstasy. He gasped at the feel of Harry tightly surrounding him and paused for a moment, giving them both a chance to regain a bit of control.

Lucius began to make tiny thrusts into Harry, brushing against Harry’s prostate. He gasped when he felt the fiery heat of Harry’s channel clench around him. He looked down to see Harry staring back up at him, desire written on his face.

“Give me more,” Harry demanded, and then he clenched around Lucius’s cock again. “Now.”

Lucius moaned, pulling out until the head of his cock was just inside Harry. Caressing his hand along Harry’s thigh, he pulled it up to rest on his shoulder, the other wrapping around his back. He leaned forward and drew Harry’s lips into a kiss, thrusting his tongue in as he drove himself into Harry’s body.

Harry began shoving his arse back to meet the thrusts of Lucius’s prick. His hand crept down to grasp his own throbbing erection, but Lucius grabbed it away, pinning his hands above his head and lacing their fingers together.

Lucius began to ram into Harry, hips snapping forward, and he hissed, “You’ll come by cock alone, my Harry. Just me.”

“Uhn, uhn… Lu– lucius…” Harry began to whimper incoherently, his nails digging into the backs of Lucius’s hands. Harry threw his head back and screamed as his cock pulsed between them, spraying their chests. Lucius, thrusting into Harry with a frantic pace, bit down on Harry’s neck where it met the shoulder. Driving once more into Harry’s clenching hole, he filled Harry with his seed. 

Harry let out a small, “Oh,” as he felt Lucius come deep within him, his leg dropping from Lucius’s shoulder

Lucius rolled them over so that Harry’s small form was splayed across his chest and legs. Harry nuzzled into the crook of Lucius’s neck and heard him whisper, “Mine. You’re mine now. I love you, and I’ll never let you go, my Harry.”

~fin~


End file.
